A Serving of Love
by Lucinda
Summary: Post S6, While recovering in England, one of Willow's teachers decides that she needs a boyfriend, & arranges for her to meet her nephew, Oliver Wood from Harry Potter.


A serving of Love?  
Author: Lucinda  
rating: pg, pg 13  
pairing: Willow/Oliver Wood - QPC #133.  
the Quickie Pairing Challenge Site:   
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or the Harry Potter books.  
Distribution: WLS, NHA, Quickie, Twisting the Hellmouth, Bite me, anyone else that I sent it to or gave permission, otherwise please ask.  
note: post s6 BtVS  
  
  
  
Willow sat, her legs carefully tucked underneath her, listening as Morag waxed enthusiastic about her nephew. As Willow nodded slightly at all the right points to make it look as if she was listening intently, her mind wandered a bit. Oh, certainly a part of her mind was listening to Morag, and she would be able to pull out any of the details about the nephew... Oliver, if it was important. But right now, she was noticing the way that the air was filled with the scent of cut grass and this one particular type of scrubby almost a grey lavender flowery plant that made her nose itch. She didn't know what it was called, but it kept making her sneeze.  
  
Giles had arranged for the ladies of this small coven to take care of her for a while, after... well, after everything had gone bad. After Tara had died, after she'd killed Warren, after she'd destroyed the Magic Box. Yes, let her life be divided into Before and After, and then she might be able to manage not to think about IT. Her trip into madness and pain and loss.  
  
She was supposed to be getting better, under the guidance of these women, a handful of women ranging from her mothers age up to the most senior of them, Grace. Grace looked ancient, like the very embodiment of Grandmother Wisdom, the repository of learning and advice for dealing with life. Apparently, Grace had been in this small coven forever, or at least since before Emily had joined, or Morag. Either Grace was one of those people who goes from looking young to one day just looking old, or she was really, really old. Willow wasn't quite certain that she cared which it was.  
  
After listening to Giles explain what had happened, Grace had sighed, and come to the conclusion that Willow had 'forgotten why life is worth living, worth savoring.' That was why she had her lessons outside, to remind her of the beauty of nature. It was why the ladies passed her from house to house, each one keeping her there for a few days, trying to make Willow feel like she belonged, like she had a home, and a family that cared.  
  
The plan was working, although it was going very slowly. She'd remembered or rediscovered how wonderful life was, the details and intricacies in a flower, or a tiny bug. She still wasn't ready to look for miracles or intricacy from frogs, but... Yeah, the world was a pretty place. It would be a bad thing to destroy it. She could see that now.  
  
But she still felt all alone in a way. Not completely alone anymore, she felt like she'd been adopted by almost half a dozen mothers or aunts, and an interfering old grandmother. Willow wasn't quite certain how to deal with it, having so much attention, so many people who actually cared what she did, or how she felt. But she didn't have a special someone to hold her if she had a bad dream, or to kiss her and say that she was beautiful. Nobody to make her feel beloved, instead of accepted, maybe even loved.  
  
So, the world was safe, but she still felt broken hearted. And the ladies all knew that. She'd been introduced to literally dozens of sons, nephews, and the occasional grandson or daughter's friend that had 'happened' to be in the area. It was almost transparently obvious that the ladies were tossing guys towards her in an effort to help her find someone. Most of the time, the poor guys had the look of nervous dread that told her they hadn't been asked, just hurled towards her, and this really wasn't their idea. She found it almost amusing, and rather sweet of them to go to the effort, but... maybe she was just going to be alone and miserable. None of the various guys, almost all of whom she had to agree really were 'nice young men' had really caught her interest as anything more than maybe a potential friend.  
  
Wait, had Morag just said that she was inviting Oliver to the picnic this Saturday? Yes, she had... followed by the now dreaded phrase 'I'm sure he'll be delighted to meet a nice girl like you.'  
  
"Are you really sure? I mean, what if Oliver needs to practice? Didn't you say that he was a maybe for the England national Quidditch team? What if..." Yeah, the dependable memory pulling the relevant details... unfortunately, it didn't look like it was going to work.  
  
"Willow, Oliver is very good, and he's certainly got the time to meet a pretty young thing like you, after all, a young man can't think about broomsticks all the time, now can he?" Morag was giving her a gently chiding smile, as if she knew that Willow was trying to wiggle out of being introduced to Oliver.  
  
Yeah, she was doomed to suffer yet another awkward introduction. She could see it now, she would be standing there shuffling her feet, hoping that this one hadn't heard about how she'd destroyed her mentor's shop, and he'd be there, trying to figure out a way to make a quick escape that wouldn't give him serious bad boy points with his aunt... She sighed, the suspicion growing that the picnic would turn out to be another one of those days.  
  
Unfortunately, she hadn't been able to figure out an escape that wouldn't earn her some serious bad-willow points. So, Saturday morning, there she was, helping spread out blankets under the pale sunlight. She could smell an assortment of flowers, most of which she didn't know the names for, and an assortment of food, some of which she couldn't identify either.  
  
"Do you know where I'm supposed to put this? My aunt insisted I bring something to the picnic... I'm sort of trying to put off meeting her for a bit."  
  
Willow looked, and felt something inside flutter at the sight and sound of him. He was taller than her, with short brown hair and nice muscles. Of course, there was also the accent, which reminded her of Sean Connery... overall, he looked wonderful. "Why are you trying to avoid your aunt? Have you been a naughty nephew?"  
  
He grinned a bit, leaning in as if to share a big secret. "Truth be told, she's a bit of a meddler. Either she's trying to tell me to settle down and get a real job, or one of her friends has this adorable daughter... And whoever she's setting this up with will be there, pushing some nervous girl towards me, expecting the two of us to get along and give them lots of little great nieces and nephews..."  
  
She couldn't help it, Willow started to giggle. "I've seen them do that. Here, you can help me spread out the blankets... we can take a lot of time making sure there aren't any rocks or wrinkles. And you can tell me all about how you feel all awkward and quiet when they throw you at some poor unsuspecting girl."  
  
He grinned at her again, this time revealing a faint dimple on his right cheek. "Thanks. So, I don't recall seeing you here before. Are you new?"  
  
"Something like. I'm actually here to get a bit of polishing on my control... and I sort of... had a bad time at home, and I'm supposed to get better here. They've been a lot of help, actually." She could feel herself blushing, but he was cute, and he seemed nice, and she really didn't want to have to tell him that she'd almost ended the world after her lover had died in her arms.  
  
"Does that mean you're going to be here for a while? I could maybe... do you actually need anyone to show you around anymore? I think... I think I'd like to see you some more. Ahh... I'm Oliver Wood, in case I forgot. Which I would promptly blame on too many bludgers to the head."  
  
She laughed, something that she hadn't felt like doing for a very long time. "You're Morag's nephew? Oh, my... I think she was trying to throw you at me. I'm Willow."  
  
Shaking his head, he murmured "For once, I don't think I mind her matchmaking plans at all."  
  
Looking at his face, Willow couldn't help but agree. This picnic had turned out far better than she'd hoped.  
  
end. 


End file.
